In Love With Him

chapter 72

Kennedy’s POV

The morning sun spilled through the sheer white curtains, waking me with its golden warmth. I blinked a few times, stretching lazily as I sat up in bed. Marty was already at the vanity mirror, applying sunscreen to her nose, while Finn lounged on the other bed humming some random Harry Styles song.

"Come on, Kennedy," Marty chirped, tying her curly hair into a high ponytail. "Time to go exploring. The island isn’t going to discover itself."

I smiled and climbed out of bed, slipping into a black bikini under a white tank and black shorts. It was already warm — the kind of humid heat that stuck to your skin but didn’t feel heavy or gross. Just… alive.

Dad and Helen were already bustling around, prepping for the wave of family arriving for the big wedding. Aunts, uncles, cousins — everyone would be here today. The resort would be packed. But for now, the three of us were free to roam.

The walk through the resort felt like something out of a dream. Every corner we turned revealed something more beautiful than the last — little cabana shops with handmade jewelry, staff offering fresh coconuts with straws in them, birds of paradise and hibiscus blooming like paint splashes against the green.

Eventually, we found ourselves wandering toward the beach. The sand was like powdered sugar under our feet, soft and warm. The ocean stretched out in impossible blues — turquoise near the shore, melting into a deeper sapphire farther out.

Then I saw him.

The waiter from last night.

He was in the water, waist-deep, shirtless and gleaming under the sun. Water droplets slid down the golden planes of his chest, and his muscles flexed as he turned toward us. He looked like something out of a resort brochure or a romance novel — broad shoulders, smooth brown skin kissed by the sun, thick black hair tied in a short bun, and a tattoo of a wave curling around his bicep.

Marty let out a quiet, impressed, “Damn.”

As if on cue, he looked up and smiled — and not just politely. It was the kind of smile that was meant for someone. Me.

He jogged out of the water toward us, the sun catching every ripple of his body, water glistening like diamonds on his skin.

“Good morning,” he said, his voice rich and smooth, with an island accent that made everything sound better. “I was hoping I’d run into you again.”

I blinked. “Oh, hi.”

He gave a small bow. “I’m Elian.”

“Elian,” I repeated, trying not to sound awkward. “I’m Kennedy. And this is Marty and Finn.”

He nodded at them politely, but his eyes didn’t leave mine. “You’re here for the wedding, yeah?”

“Yep,” I said, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. “My dad’s getting married.”

Elian raised a brow, smiling. “That makes you the heart of the celebration.”

Marty audibly swooned behind me. I shot her a subtle glare.

“So,” Elian continued, “have you ever gone snorkeling before?”

I shook my head. “Never.”

“You should come,” he said, excitement lighting his face. “We have a beginners’ class at noon today. It’s easy, fun, and the reef is incredible. I’ll be one of the guides.”

I hesitated. “I don’t know…”

“It’s safe,” he added, picking up on my uncertainty. “We stay close to shore, and I’ll be with you the whole time.”

Finn leaned in close to my ear, whispering, “Girl. Hot. Island. Man. Say yes.”

Marty nodded in agreement, whispering, “He's literally giving you an excuse to be half-naked in the water with him. Do it.”

I looked back at Elian. His smile was patient, but hopeful.

I swallowed. “Okay. Sure. I’ll try it.”

His grin widened. “Great. Meet me by the dive shack at noon. I’ll have everything ready.”

He winked at me — actually winked — before jogging back into the water like some living Greek god.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Marty grabbed my arm and squealed, “Oh my God, Kenny! What was that?!”

Finn fanned himself. “I need to sit down. That man could teach a class on how to flirt.”

I tried to play it cool, but my face was burning. “It was just snorkeling.”

“Girl,” Marty said flatly, “that was foreplay in flip-flops.”

I couldn’t stop smiling. Snorkeling with Elian didn’t sound like the worst way to spend the day.

Still… in the back of my mind, I wondered what Dominic would think.

---

Dominic’s POV

I stood a few yards up the beach, half-shaded by one of the resort’s palm-covered cabanas, sipping on a bottle of water that tasted extremely refreshing. I wasn’t even sure how long I’d been watching. I’d just finished a quick solo run around the island’s walking path to clear my head, when I saw her.

Kennedy.

She was barefoot, her black curly hair pulled up messily in a clip, a tank top and tiny black shorts that hugged the curve of her hips. She was laughing at something Marty said, then shading her eyes as she looked out toward the ocean. She looked… happy.

Then I saw him—the waiter from last night.

He was already shirtless, standing waist-deep in the water like some knock-off romance cover model, just waiting for a chance. I narrowed my eyes as he caught sight of them, and then—like a goddamn golden retriever—ran out of the ocean straight toward Kennedy.

My stomach twisted.

I couldn’t hear what he was saying from where I stood, but I could tell by the way he looked at her—like she was the only thing that existed—that he wasn’t just asking about the weather. And she was smiling. Nervous, shy… but smiling.

Marty and Finn stood there smirking, clearly eating it all up like it was their favorite show. I clenched my jaw and took another swig of water, my grip tightening around the bottle.

Then it happened.

He bowed—seriously, like some charming prince in a fairytale—and introduced himself. I couldn’t hear the name, but I could see the way Kennedy’s lips moved around it. Like she was already saying it in her head a hundred times.

My heart stopped.

She laughed softly.

And I felt something—something low and hot in my chest. Anger. Jealousy. Possession. It didn’t matter what word I chose. It burned all the same.

That should’ve been me.

I should’ve been the one making her laugh like that. I should’ve been the one handing her some cheesy-ass flower. I should’ve been the one she was smiling at like that.

But instead, I was the i***t standing twenty feet away with a front-row seat to the start of something that could ruin me.

Because it was hitting me now, more than ever… I didn’t just like Kennedy. I wanted her.

And not in some fleeting, casual kind of way. I wanted her in ways I didn’t know how to process. I wanted to protect her. I wanted to be the one she turned to when she was scared. I wanted to be the one she touched first, kissed first, slept with first. I wanted to be her first everything.

And here she was, getting flirted with by some ripped, tan, sun-kissed islander who looked like he stepped out of a damn surf magazine.

My chest ached.

And I realized something.

I might already be too late.